


Wedding Nights

by LadyGerbilLuna



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGerbilLuna/pseuds/LadyGerbilLuna
Summary: Duncan and Quintus have been through a lot. It's Skyrim, after all. So it's no surprise that they both want to celebrate their wedding. And so they do!





	

**Author's Note:**

> After playing Dragon Age, I started Skyrim, and was so sad Duncan died, that I remade him in Skyrim. He becomes a werewolf, curing him of the Blight. This then led to many non-canon ideas, some of which are hinted here, like the small house near Whiteout. One of the main ones of note is that Quintus is fully aware of Duncan being a werewolf. Quintus is far more open-minded, accepting people for who they are, and not what they are (though it takes him time, of course).   
> On a completely random note, he also snuck Sofie into the White Phil at night to sleep, because he's a sweetie, and hated to see her freeze at night. Nurelion was not happy, but when is he ever.

It had been a rather unusual wedding, to say the least, and Quintus had been surprised at how much effort Duncan clearly put into the planning. 

In Skyrim, weddings were usually quick and to the point, a simple wedding at the Temple of Mara in Riften, a quick exchange of simple vows and simple rings, a few close friends present. 

Duncan, however, decided that since he wasn't from Skyrim, there was no point in following their traditions, Dragonborn or not. Of course, Quintus wasn't originally from there, either. 

So, with goodness knows how much money, lots of coercion, and many favors, the ceremony had moved to Whiterun, near the ever growing Gildergreen sapling. 

Quintus hadn't been surprised that Duncan chose Whiterun. Though the Dragonborn often had...business at Riften, he still thought of Whiterun as home. The people accepted him, and though the bickering of Stormcloaks versus Imperials always continued, the city attempted it's best to remain neutral in the war. Perhaps more importantly, Duncan was Harbinger of the Companions. 

White streamers crisscrossing houses, and a few new potted plants lined the way up through the market to the tree. 

In new silks (because someone, namely Serana, had burned his best pair of clothing), cream with vines and leaves sewn in red, new boots and bracers dyed red, Quintus met future husband, surrounded by many people who Duncan had helped. It felt humbling, seeing how many attended for this great man. Strong, looking far more comfortable in the dark blue, almost black, silks, Duncan had eyes only for him, a smile stretching his face as he and Serana, who led him arm-in-arm, approached. 

The ceremony was the same as the one in Riften, except that afterward, to the hoots, howls, and cheers of those surrounding them, Duncan kissed him, careful not to knock the circlet that Serana had given him as a wedding gift off his head. 

Then began the celebration. Food, dancing, music, and laughter filled the air as Whiterun chose to forget the woes of life in Skyrim. 

Quintus let Duncan do most of the talking with the guests, content to just listen, and occasionally eat a tidbit here and there. 

“Do you wish to go home?” Duncan eventually asked. Quintus couldn't use the excuse of drink for the way his body warmed, his face heated. Not far from the city, Duncan had purchased a small bit of land, building a home for them. It was not as large as some of the mansions that Quintus had heard of, but still contained a small alchemy lab, an indoor greenhouse, and a small kitchen. 

“Oh ho,” snickered Delvin Mallory. “Someone...” and he was promptly cut off when several hands covered his mouth. 

“Yes?” replied Quintus, ducking his head. 

It still took them some time to extract themselves from the crowd, some people wanting to try and talk business, some merely wishing to congratulate the pairs, and even some so drunk, they talked about whatever came to mind. 

“I didn't realize there'd be so many people,” said Serana, accompanying them on the short trip.

“I certainly didn't invite all of them,” said Duncan. “Close friends and some associates.”

“Nobody wants to miss the marriage of the Dragonborn.”

“Please don't remind me.”

Quintus opened his mouth to reply, but yelped instead when Duncan picked him up, cradling him almost like a baby.

“What are you doing?” he asked, wrapping his arms around Duncan's neck.

“Carrying you into the house, of course.”

“You two are disgustingly sweet,” snickered Serana. “I'm not sure why I stick around.”

“You love us?” asked Quintus. He knew that Serana held some hero worship for Duncan, who was always kind and understanding, even to a vampire, a werewolf, a thief...

Even to a lowly apprentice alchemist. 

That was Duncan, a man who nearly died, Dragonborn, a werewolf, sometimes thief, a friend...

His husband.

“Apparently so,” Serana said, flicking his ear playfully. “Try not to break him, Duncan. He makes good potions.”

Duncan snorted, opening the door to their home.

Their home....

Quintus hid his face in Duncan's shoulder, nerves making him shake just a little. He was married! Married to this strong, amazing man...and they were home.

“We don't have to do anything, you know,” murmured Duncan as he took the steps up to the master bedroom. 

“I'm just...nervous...it's not that I'm...completely inexperienced. You know this. Just mostly. Somewhat. Duncan, are you laughing at me?”

“Somewhat,” replied Duncan, making him sit on the bed. “You're so sweet that I sometimes wonder what you see in me.” Carefully, he removed Quintus' boots. 

“Me? You're the one t-that's traveled over Skyrim, fighting dragons and who knows what else, and...and...”

Quintus vaguely realized he was babbling, but Duncan was carefully removing each article of clothing, running his hands on exposed skin, watching him as he worked. He was still shaking, but he didn't try to stop his husband, either. 

“Lift your hips,” came the command. Quintus should have been embarrassed as smalls and pants were removed, and he was, unable to keep watching Duncan, but arousal was just as strong. 

Quintus' eyes returned to his husband, who still watched him in return, as careful fingers unlaced each bit of clothing, until Duncan remained only in breeches. 

“Lie in the middle of the bed. I have some things to gather.”

“What things?”

Duncan smirked, but didn't reply, slipping out the door. Quintus huffed a bit, before doing as told. Beside the bed, there were a pile of towels, a pitcher and bowl, and the White Phial. His eyes prickled just a little, but he smiled. His master had been stubborn, and sometimes a complete and utter asshole, but he had learned so much. And this thing, so fragile looking, had brought him and Duncan together. 

He looked up as Duncan reentered, carrying a tray, and setting it on the other bed-stand. He could see what appeared to be pieces of fruit and small cakes. 

“I remember when I entered your store,” said Duncan, sitting down beside Quintus. “You and Nurelion were arguing about the White Phial.”

“And then you offered to get it, and you did.”

“Nurelion gave me five septims for it.” Duncan laughed. 

Quintus shook his head. “I remember. He taught me so much, but he was definitely a stingy, old bastard.”

“I remember when you approached me, thanked me for what I did, and gave me more money. I was surprised by your kindness.”

“I couldn't let you just leave with five septims! Even if Nurelion was upset about the Phial, it was unfair of him after all you did. And accusing you of breaking it...”

Duncan leaned forward and kissed him, taking the Phial from his fingers and placing it to the side. 

“No more talk of Nurelion. I want you in the here and now.”

Quintus once more flushed. He was entirely nude, on their wedding night, and he had brought up the past. He tried to turn his face away, but Duncan wouldn't let him. 

“What's wrong, Quintus?”

“I feel like an idiot, bringing that up tonight. You've done so much for me, today, and I...”

“Oh, was there something else you had in mind?” 

He was sure his face was red. It felt like flames were leaping from his face! Soon, he would combust, and maybe that was a good thing, because if he kept talking, he was sure he'd say something stupid. Thankfully, a piece of fruit interrupted any other thoughts, and he opened his mouth, accepting the piece. 

“Relax, Quintus,” Duncan said, running fingers through his hair. “Turn over onto your stomach.”

He swallowed the citrus-y piece. “W-why?” he asked, even as he did as told. 

“Because, dear husband, I'm going to give you a massage.”

Quintus wiggled on the bed a little, and he was fairly sure he whimpered. He turned to watch as Duncan grabbed a different bottle from the table.

“A gift from the thieves guild. I'm sure they thought it was funny.”

Quintus groaned as oil, musky and earthy, was rubbed onto his back, before the focus became tight muscles and knots. Duncan worked his way down, not pausing, until he had made it all the way down to the toes. 

“Do you want more?” murmured Duncan into his ear.

“Yes,” he whispered. Duncan washed his hands, then picked up a different bottle.

“Lift your hips a little.”

Quintus shook just a little as he did as told, Duncan sliding a pillow under his hips. He moaned just a little at the feel of the fabric rubbing against his cock, and he spread his legs, resting his head against his arms. He shivered when a finger slide down his lower back, between the cheeks, and rubbed at his hole. 

“You're beautiful,” said Duncan, the finger slowly sliding inside. 

“N-not...” he disagreed, wiggling a little. A warm hand on his back made him pause for only a second.

“It's fine if we disagree on this, just as you remember I'm right.”

He huffed, squeezing around the intruding finger. Duncan sucked in a breath of air, before sliding out. Quintus raised himself onto his hands and knees slowly, almost like a cat stretching, and looked over his shoulder. 

Duncan's pupils were dilated, a hint of rose on his cheeks. Carefully, he slipped two fingers in, stretching and prodding, sometimes hooking his fingers, sometimes merely sliding them in and out. Quintus shivered, closing his eyes, focusing on the feeling. Gently, Duncan stroked his prostate, and he whined. 

Duncan continued to stretch him, continue the slow pace, and as tempting as it was to thrust back, Quintus did not try to speed up the pace. He could feel the pleasure building, the constant stroking bringing him closer. 

“Duncan,” he said, his voice low, warning in his tone.

“Yes,” was all the Dragonborn said, and Quintus shuddered as he was thrown over the edge. 

He lay down, sprawled really, on the bed, thrusting into the pillow at the aftershocks of the orgasm. A hand rubbed his lower back before Duncan rose to wash his hands again. He hadn't expected Duncan to make him come first like that, but maybe he shouldn't have been surprised.

His limbs still shaking, he turned onto his back. Duncan watched him silently. He was still nervous, and probably would always be, but he wanted this. 

“I want you in me,” Quintus said, spreading his legs. Duncan paused for just a moment before throwing the towel to the side, before unlacing the tight breeches and pushing them off.

“You can still change your mind.”

Quintus tilted his head to the side. “I want you to fuck me so hard that people can hear us outside,” he replied. For just a second, he thought maybe he had gone too far. Duncan stilled, the two of them looking at each other. Swiftly, his legs were lifted onto the strong shoulders. 

“Do you?” Duncan asked, just the hint of a growl now in the voice. 

“Yes. Now.”

Duncan was careful as he pushed the head of his cock inside, but then thrust the rest of the way in. They both shouted. One of Quintus' hands grasped the bedsheets, the other at Duncan's shoulder. The bed did indeed shake as they both moved. 

Quintus wrapped one of his legs around Duncan's waist, and brought his other hand to his lover's arm, urging the Dragonborn to move harder. Nerves and over-stimulation made him come again, shuddering against his lover. With a sharp thrust, and a bit to the neck that pierced skin, Duncan came inside of him. 

Gently, Duncan licked the bite, before carefully slipping out. He grabbed the White Phial, helping Quintus sip from the healing potion, before rubbing the bite with some of the solution. 

“I thought vampires were the ones who bit people,” murmured Quintus.

“Probably a werewolf thing,” replied Duncan, offering a piece of cake. Quintus took it, licking Duncan's fingers. 

“And do you think they heard us outside, Quintus?” 

With a small smile and just a bit of a laugh, he said, “I'm not sure, but we should probably try again, just to be on the safe side.”


End file.
